


A lover when it suits him

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Category: The Authority
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Intimacy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an instant, Midnighter contemplates and then discards all possible avenues that don’t lead to the kind of end that he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A lover when it suits him

**Author's Note:**

> I realized that part of why I’ve been having so much trouble writing the threesome I wanted (Midnighter/Apollo/Dick Grayson) was because I hadn’t actually tried writing just Midnighter/Apollo yet. So, here it is. Vaguely NSFW and as goopy as these two get.

Thinking things through is Midnighter’s specialty.

Just one look and he knows every single possible action that a person might take — and how to counter it. He can read the potential in every movement a person makes, from the twitch of a fingertip right down to the faintest tremor at their lips, and then react accordingly.

Apollo doesn’t stand a chance.

*

There’s something utterly gratifying about breaking a god down to their baser parts in some way or another. Midnighter has done it before, the effort bloody as all get out, but he likes to think that this way is better.

That having Apollo sitting in front of him while wearing nothing but his skin and a smile is more satisfying than cracking skulls and snapping necks for the good of the universe.

"You’ve got that look on your face again," Apollo says as he watches Midnighter watch him. The smile on his face softens, fills with the sort of soft pleasure that Midnighter often feels humbled to see, especially in their rare moments of down time.

Midnighter shakes his head, amused. “What look?”

Apollo shrugs and the motion draws Midnighter’s attention to the broadness of his husband’s shoulders pressed up against the sleek metal of their headboard. All that supple skin, pale and faintly luminescent in the current dimness of their bedroom, sets Midnighter’s thoughts on a very predictable path.

"You know the one," Apollo says, with a slight sideways tilt of his head. "You look like you’re trying to decide whether you want to fool around or fight something." His eyes narrow at that, eyebrows drawing down as a frown twists at his mouth. "You better make the right choice here."

Midnighter grins at Apollo. “Don’t I always?”

Apollo takes a moment longer than usual to return the smile, but when it comes, it is radiant. Honestly, if Midnighter was the type to be predisposed to write poetry, he’d have material for days from the familiar warmth in that wide smile.

"Sometimes, I’m not so sure."

The mattress is too expensive to creak underneath the combined weight of their bodies. It dips when Midnighter moves across the bed, when he comes to kneel in front of Apollo and cup his husband’s face. Tenderness does not come easy to Midnighter, not after the life he’s lived. But with Apollo, the attempts that he makes usually succeed.

"Funny guy," Midnighter says with a roll of his eyes.

This close with his hand curving along the side of Apollo’s handsome face, Midnighter can see everything. Every shallow breath that Apollo takes, every twitch of his dick between their bodies becomes something else for Midnighter to analyze and file away in his brain for future use. He looks at Apollo’s face, at the heavy-lidded and hungry look in his brilliant blue eyes, and knows exactly what’s on the menu.

"Trust me," Midnighter says, voice low and rough in the way that only Apollo’s attention can cause.

Midnighter cards his fingers through Apollo’s hair, rubbing at his husband’s scalp and earning himself another smile and a teasing kiss brushed over his mouth.  He pulls Apollo’s hair, using his hold on that pale fall of white hair to keep his husband right where he wants him. That Apollo allows this with nothing more than the faintest flutter of his eyelashes as he sucks in a sharp breath makes the moment that much sweeter.

"I know what I’m doing."


End file.
